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Playing down the Don.


Guest jossman
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Guest jossman

As kids in the late 40's and early 50's we had our own jungle to play "War" in. The mighty River Don. It ran down the side of Shenstone Road, Hillsborough and was our very own Utopia. We would play from morning till dusk and never bother anyone, we just loved it. We often fell in and got covered in thick orange sludge, we lost shoes in the stuff and in reality it was filthy but we didn't care. With rifles made from wood and makeshift belts over our shoulders, even a tin hat that Dad had brought home from the war, we revelled in killing **** and Jermins. The 6 weeks holidays were a blurr of happiness spent solely down the banks of the old river. We were scared of the deep bit at the top of Shenstone Rd. as one of the residents cousins had drowned there as a young girl. That story was the biggest safety net we needed and we never ventured near it. Mums always knew where we were and one shout would bring us back to reality and home.

It is so sad that todays youngsters cannot enjoy what we took for granted.

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Excellent writing, fell in the same River (different water, still filthy) during the late Sixties/early Seventies, Mum couldn't call from Dykes Hall Road, but, when the sun set, it was time for home.

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